


First Fantasy NaNoWriMo: 25: Unusual Bedfellows

by SkiesOverTokyo



Series: FirstFan NaNoWriMo Drabbles [25]
Category: First Fantasy (Webcomic)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Filthy, M/M, NaNoWriMo, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Random Encounters, Safe Sane and Consensual, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-30 01:58:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16755688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkiesOverTokyo/pseuds/SkiesOverTokyo
Summary: Tam hooks up with a fellow fan of erotica. Not-safe-for-work hijinks ensue, to the pleasure of both.[Lyall will eventually turn up in canon.]





	First Fantasy NaNoWriMo: 25: Unusual Bedfellows

It had been one of those days, I decided as I leant back in the chair, swigged the last dregs of the small bottle of draught beer, before placing it back on the worn and empty bar. A rotten mood had hung over most of the evening-the contact we’d expected to pay us handsomely for some stolen book had stiffed us entirely, sending in his stead a particularly nasty specimen of mercenary enforcer. One fight, and one window-related fatality later, we’d skipped town, Syl grumbling all the way to this small, rather ill-equipped town.  
It had been, we both agreed, not our fault, and the rarity of the item meant we could likely flog it at a nearby guild for a tidy profit, but the fact remained that we’d written much of the day off on a wasted errand, struck another town we could trade, lie low and visit for a good year or so, and ended up spattered in blood and mud. Thankfully, the landlord was one of those types that didn’t give a shit what you’d turned up covered in, as long as you didn’t leave any of it on the floor, and didn’t start any trouble. Syl had turned in quickly, probably asleep by now, leaving me downstairs to pore through a few books, the increasingly ragged map that guided us around the continent, and drink my way through a few coins worth of alcohol. Not enough to get drunk, but to just relax, calm myself from the chaos of the day, and to, I suppose, toast our continual survival.  
  
I sighed, and turned back to the open book in front of me, the rest shoved to the end of the bar on top of the map. I had no idea, honestly why I’d stolen this-there wasn’t much value to the book, being just a few years old, with the sort of cheap binding that scurrilous pamphleteers in the capital tended to use for their half-baked missives on damnation, destruction and why dragons absolutely could not be trusted to look after the Empire’s gold, cheap, thin pages. A cheap thin plot too-lady meets knight, knight turns out to be lady, lady and lady have adventures-I recognised the tale as soon as that device had been revealed, a tale almost as old as the Empire itself. Yet, I couldn’t put the thing down-certainly, the anonymous gutter-scribe had added several…well, honestly, pornographic scenes of the duo that added a new angle and a realism to the relationship, that otherwise was full of chaste professions of love, chivalrous deeds in the lady’s name, and other bollocks like that. Moreover, however, the scribe had a surprising talent in making me like this story, of telling it in a fresh way. Where was I…Ah.  
  
_“Come” said the knight to the lady, lying back upon her pillows, arms out to her lover, both of them naked as the day they first entered this world, and both of them feeling, hearts hammering in their chests, like this was the first day they had truly lived._  
 _The lady crawled up her lover, kissing every inch of her, slowly and surely undoing the knight as her fingers slowly curled into the sheets, as the taller woman allowed her lover to explore her, despite her voice growing higher in moans and pants of utter need, until she could take no more, gently guiding the girl between her legs, letting her hot mouth slowly bring her closer and closer to completion._  
 _The lady had other ideas, and continued to explore her lover, leaving her needy and unresolved, until the knight forgot her honour and began rutting against her lover’s form in search of that final release._  
 _The lady was amused by this, fingers stroking the knight’s lips, imperiously demanding entry, as she herself began to feel her need grow, her lust like softly gathering fire across her pale unmarked skin._  
 _They were a strange couple, the tanned scarred knight, more a man than half of the men she fought alongside, and the pale, dainty lady of the manor, the sole daughter of her house, but as they made love, they became perfect, like two pieces that fit together so well there barely seemed a join._  
  
Footsteps shook me from my reverie and I realised, with a slight blush flooding to my cheeks, that the story had done exactly as its author intended, leaving me half-twitching against my thigh and now with company.  
I looked up, coming face to face with a cheerful, if slightly boyish young man-his clothing marked him as an outdoors type-good quality boots, a heavy dyed jumper, a couple of bandoleers of what seemed to be various basic components for field alchemy, and tight leather trousers that hugged his arse.  
  
I decided that I didn’t need more stimulation and turned back to my book. He flopped-this young man seemed one of these types with boundless energy, even this late at night-down a couple of seats away, the seat creaking loudly underneath him, leaned over the bar, took a bottle of mead, dropped a couple of coins into the rather fearsomely lettered “Money here-TOUCH THIS AND YOUR FINGERS GO HERE TOO” jar, pulled the cork out with his teeth and took a swig, the thatch of blonde hair falling into a pale, soft face. He grinned at me  
“Evening.”  
  
I grinned back, muttered a good evening back, and felt myself come rather obviously to attention. Shit.  
“I’m Lyall, by the way, pleased to meet you!”  
I muttered back a reply, went back to the book.  
Usually I didn’t have a problem dealing with my needs, but to slink back to my room, curl up and read the rest of this whilst indulging myself meant standing up, and the book and this mage had conspired almost perfectly to leave me in a state where even if the fire and candles guttered out, the other man would still probably notice quite how aroused I was.  
What to do…what to do…  
  
“What are you reading” he asked suddenly.  
This did not help, and, inwardly pulling one of those expressions that would fit perfectly on Syl’s face, and show him the cover. Lady Luck promptly kicked me in the bollocks, as he instantly recognised it.  
“Classy!” he chuckles. “Reading lesbian erotica in public.”  
He slid to the other stool, “Have you got to the bit where they make love in the lord’s dungeon? Really well written, even for erotica”  
I gave him a withering look  
“No, I haven’t. You know, one of my favourite writers said once there is a special part of the underworlds for people who spoil books for others?”  
“Datii, right?”  
He didn’t even apologise. I didn’t know whether to punch the kid for that, or kiss him for recognising the quote. A lot of me wanted to do the latter, generally.  
“Yes, Datii. So, now you know I’m reading porn, what exactly can I help you with? Do you want to discuss the finer points of lesbian erotica? Do you have more novels you could possibly spoil for me?”  
  
He took a swig, grinning at me.  
“Nah, can’t sleep. Though if you wanted to talk about books in general, I’d ask whose copy of “Taking Dragon Mountain by Strategy” that is.”  
“Mine.”  
“ _Yours?_ Seriously? I doubt that.”  
It was my turn to grin at him, as he stared at me. I was starting to enjoy his company, though I wasn’t sure because he was taking my mind off sex, or because he was honestly more than a perfect candidate for my type. I made to stand up, realised I was still very much hard, and sat back down suddenly-not quickly enough.  
“Huh. You really do enjoy the book”  
  
It took me a few seconds to realise where he was staring, but when the coin finally dropped, it was with a remarkably large and exaggerated clunk. I instantly attempted to shut this new direction for the conversation down  
“You saw nothing.”  
“I saw enough.”  
I felt my heart quicken  
“I didn’t expect to be disturbed.”  
“I don’t see you leaving. Or apologising. Not that I expect either. ”  
I considered this for a few seconds, then took the logical course, and kissed him. His response was, if anything, more fervent than I had expected, both hands releasing the bottle to softly cup my face, deepening the kiss a little, gaze level, but intrigued. I pulled away, and muttered into the gathering gloom between us  
“A good enough apology?”  
He considered this for a few seconds, facing me now, so close our legs brushed a little against each other, his legs swinging a little as he fidgeted with what exactly he should say, before he kissed back, softly asking for access, for me to yield a little to his earnest tongue, fingers softly sliding up my cheeks to drift distractedly through my hair.  
“It’ll do” he finally replied. “For the moment.”  
  
His hands found a resting place in my hair, and for the first time both of us just stared at each other, the spell of tension suddenly breaking, close enough to see the way the other blinked, close enough to hear the other breathe above the occasional crackle of the fire and the sound of the low wind. The silence lay before us, full of possibility, before Lyall leant forward, removing one of the hands from my cheek, the other shifting to gently caress my chin as its partner snuck downward, across the thin cloth of my tunic, and kissed me again, this time slower and more considered.  
  
I felt him gently run his fingers under the hem of my shirt, as if to lift it, but some last attempt at modesty made me gently grab his wrist.  
“Clothes on down here. Please.”  
He nodded, and deepened the kiss, tongue running against mine, as his daring grew, and his hand gently came to rest on the chair between my legs.  
I glanced down, almost irritated that he was taking the lead so effortlessly, and grinned at him, breaking the kiss a little, one hand sliding into that messy cornfield that framed his face perfectly, the other slipping down to gently press against his now obvious erection.  
“Lyall, can I make a suggestion that would make us both more comfortable?”  
He nodded without a word, and as I got to my feet, practically threw his arms around me, leaning down to kiss me, dragging me up a little. That surprised me a little, almost threatening to topple both onto the floor. He stood quickly, barely breaking from the kiss as we walked the short distance to one of the battered sofas near the fire.  
  
He flopped down, pulling me with him, one of his legs inexpertly wrapping around my waist, and kissed my cheek, smiling  
“Much more comfortable. Thank you, Tam.”  
For some reason, his voice saying my name sounded the best thing in the world at that point, and he chuckled a little, hand sliding down to gently squeeze my arse.

“Someone has a voice kink? Maybe a praise kink? Ooh, do you get off from people saying your na-mpppf”  
I kissed him again to shut him up, and lifting my hips to press against his, ground softly against his own erection, fingers stroking the lean soft flesh of his stomach through the jumper, eliciting a series of soft, and thankfully stifled moans and gasps. His fingers launched a fresh assault, digging his nails a little into the warm flesh, before he retaliated to a particularly teasing stroke just above his hips with a soft, but deliberate slap against my arse. He was a lot more into this than I’d first expected-not that I thought for a second he wouldn’t at least kiss back, but this…this was far more even than I’d expected.  
He suddenly moved, encircling my waist and chest with legs and arms, then rolled us both so that he now straddled me, sitting on his knees either side of his waist  
“That’s a better view though. Look at you, slowly coming undone with me. Are all your conquests this enjoyable? Don’t let this face fool you, I’ve been around a bit.”  
I didn’t know how to respond to this-the sudden flip of poles, I had to admit, was not an overly familiar situation-I either started on the bottom and remained on the bottom, or stayed on top, and I had to admit, as he began to roll his hips gently against my crotch, my ability to express myself in anything other than moans, adorations of him, or cursed oaths at the sensations threatening to overcome me were all but non-existent.  
  
He tugged at my tunic again, and I finally allowed him to pull it off, his mouth capturing mine as he went down on all-fours, skin to wool along much of our bodies, fingers stroking the muscle of my stomach, the pathways of a few scars from years ago that crossed my torso, before gently taking and tugging one of my nipples. I hissed up into his mouth, received a whispered apology before his mouth engulfed it, licking and sucking the smarting flesh as one occasionally licks a small cut to dull the pain. He broke away for a few seconds, looking down on me on hands and knees, his turn to make an overdue suggestion  
  
“I think we should go to my room. If you want to continue?”  
The words barely left his mouth before I nodded in reply, voice momentarily lost. I simply gazed up at him, eager to continue, unwilling to stop. He grinned, leaned down, and softly caressed the head of my erection with a bare, slightly faltering hand, before getting to his feet.  
“Come on, just up the stairs, first on the left.”  
I pulled the tunic back on, just in case anyone was still awake, then followed him, heart hammering in my throat. Unbidden visions of that messy blonde head buried between my legs, greedily and enthusiastically sucking me off, or his warm heat against my back as he slowly opened me up with slick, careful fingers, or his hands simply caressing my form as we slowly came undone in each other’s arms, or-  
  
We reached the top of the landing, Lyall’s hand gently closing on my wrist, reassuringly squeezing, before he turned left, stopped in front of a door and rummaged for his keys, hands clumsy from nerves or the alcohol, I couldn’t tell. My heart quickened-in fear or excitement I couldn’t tell in this state. Lyall gave me a reassuring smile in the half gloom, leaned in, and gave me a soft, gentle kiss, before he pushed the door open, pulled me through it, then locked it again.  
  
He lit a candle quickly, before my eyes had accustomed to the gloom. A set of chainmail lay on a chair, a sword. A tidily made bed, a pack, a few books. The life of a traveller, and one who travelled far and often. A rather lonely life, I had to confess I was brought back to the present by Lyall’s soft lips against mine, hands through my hair.  
“Sorry, few home comforts, I’m afraid. Not that I think you’ll need many distractions?”  
  
His hand stroked down my thigh and I found myself coming back to full arousal quickly, returning the fire of the kiss with interest. He purred with amusement against me, took a step back, and pulled off his jerkin, tossing it onto the chainmail, followed it with his leather breaches, and then pulled me into his arms, hands stroking my sides, my hands cupping his arse. Those trousers really hadn’t hidden much.  
“Hey, Tam. Don’t leave me the only guy half naked” he muttered, a note of mock petulance in his voice.  
  
I sighed, kissed him again, and pulled off my own jerkin, watching, with wry amusement as his eyes lit up, the flame in his gaze only burning deeper in his lips as his lips glued themselves even more to mine.  
“Bad boy. And the rest?”  
“Why don’t you do some work, Lyall? My hands are rather occupied with…other things…”  
I gave his soft, full arse a squeeze which made him gasp against my lips, and his hands went to my leggings, pulling them off greedily. His lithe fingers had lost any of their initial intrepidation as they returned the favour, grabbing handfuls of flesh with one hand, as the other peeled the cloth off me.  
He arched a little, grinning into the kiss, his hips shifting a little against mine with need that I tried hard not to reciprocate just yet…  
  
He broke the kiss for a second, that hair now messed up in all angles, his face flushed blotchy, lips parted, a slightly glazed expression on that boyish face, and leaned in to hiss into my ear  
“Bed?”  
I nodded, and, with surprising strength, the taller boy lifted me, and carried me to the bed, carefully placing me down and crawling onto the bed to straddle me, fingers running around my nipples, then downward slowly, watching my reaction, before hooking into the fabric of my underwear and pulling it down my thighs, slowly exposing my erection. A soft stroke, and I arched upward, biting down on my lip hard.  
“I wish I were better at drawing. You’re such a picture, Tam. Better than any erotica for sure.”  
I didn’t know whether I wanted to slap, kiss, or push him out of the room, and get a good night’s sleep, but his touches were slowly making me lose whatever reason I’d had to start with, fingers slowly dancing on my skin.  
  
To my relief, he’d clearly given up on the corny jokes, the need on his face, and the way he eyed me clear. Hands pulled off his own, slightly more revealing underwear, his own erection bobbing to attention haloed with messy blonde pubes, and he knelt between my legs. Indecision reigned for a few seconds, both gazing at the other with hazy lust, but without a plan to proceed.  
“Tam…would you…?”  
“I’m flexible. Though I feel like making you responsible for this, Lyal-“  
He had me lightly pinned before I even had time to finish, kissing hard.  
“I assume you’ve done this before?”  
I nodded, and some of the hesitancy and awkwardness of our touches melted away as he gently palmed me, deepening the kiss.  
“Good. Me too. Usually with girls, but…flexible. Like you.”  
  
He moved down a little, movements purposeful, kissing down my stomach and making me gasp again, fingers scrunching into the bedding. I hoped that my own vocal restraint would be enough to stop me waking half the inn. The last time that had happened, I’d had to rendezvous with Syl half a mile down the road and to tolerate her amused smirks for most of a day before she took pity. Without warning, he suddenly took me into his mouth, and I had to shove my knuckle deep against my teeth to stop the groan of satisfaction going too far. A few lazy sucks, and he looked up at me, and my stomach flipped in need, feeling myself fast losing whatever decency I had left, hands over my face in mild embarrassment at the scene that unfolded in front of me.  
Another lazy slow suck and he pulled off me, grinning.  
“Turn over, Tam.”  
  
With every effort not to simply grind out my need into the sheets, I turned over, watching as he rummaged in his bag to find something, feeling my stomach flip again as he returned with a large jar of something that he placed at the foot of the bed.  
I let myself bury my face in the warm pillows, closed my eyes, turned on as much by the anticipation of what was to come as the inability to know exactly when and how it would come, but Lyall’s hands slide through my hair.  
“Hey, Tam…don’t go turtle on me. Are you ashamed…of doing this?”  
“No” I managed to say, and pushed myself up on my elbows, gazing back over my shoulder at him.  
That smile again, lopsidedly cheerful.  
“Ok. Good. I wouldn’t want you to…do anything if you weren’t up for it?”  
  
“I’m fine Lyall. Thank you.”  
“Okay” he replied, still wearing that grin. I was about to reply when a warm, slick finger began to stroke down my arse, his other hand gently stroking the muscle of my back. I relaxed into the warmth of the sheets, let my legs fall a little open. And with it, any ability to speak was gone, burned away into soft, dirty groans, gasps, scattered half-sentences that were lost in the space between us.  
Lyall was good. _Seriously good_. Where had this innocent young man learned to tease like a devil?  
Oh right. The years of experience of being a solo adventurer and…  
  
Whatever thought I’d been about to expand upon fell from me as a second slick finger pressed into me. Curling and probing and stretching and…oh gods. I felt myself like a lock to a thief, slowly giving up my secrets to his fingers despite everything I tried to do.  
“Tam…fuck. You’re so pretty.”  
His lips on my back, on my scars, tongue teasing making my body arch and writhe in the little space I could move my hips, the other hand now gently teasing up and down my side, occasionally darting underneath to pinch or stroke my nipples.  
He pulled out both fingers, breathing hard, and murmured for me to turn over. I rolled over, legs half off the bed, and he renewed his efforts, hands now softly stroking my chest and erection and even as far up as my mouth, grinning down at me as he added a third and final finger, watching me struggle to cope with the sensation.  
  
Satisfied, his hand slicked himself up, and his eyes met mine, the heat and lust and longing making me twitch with need.  
“Gods almighty, Tam. You look like lust incarnate. How the hell…I’m so lucky…”  
He reached out, took my hand.  
“Are you…?”  
I nodded, squeezed his in comfort.  
“Okay.”  
He leaned in, taking me slowly, the thickness and heat making me groan, more dirty little moans against his lips as he kissed me, pushing me gently up the bed to lean on the pillows, hilting inside me as our lips locked.  
  
We laid there together, pinned and fitted together, for a few moments, Lyall dripping broken and husky lust into my lips, hard and hot within me.  
“May I?”  
“Yes. P-please”  
And he started to move again, at first thrusting unevenly, trying to find what pattern, what angle, what touch within me, which touch on my skin would get the best reaction. His hand found my cock, began to stroke in time with his now even, deep movements, his mouth and spare hand coursing my flesh, pinching, squeezing, kissing, licking, gasping.  
I found my voice, soft, needy, asking him to move a little deeper, or touch my arse, my hair. Found my voice calling his name in a dozen different ways, a prayer, a need, a poem, an invocation, heard him answer back in the slowly fading flame of a candle, our flesh slick with sweat and oil. We lost and found each other, over and over, in the dying light.  
  
The candle guttered as he reached his limit for the first time. His hold on me tightened, his voice rose as best it could, croaking a little, low and hoarse against my ear.  
“Inside or out?”  
I reached out, pulled him against my chest, and held him there as he finished, thick and messy, inside me, his hand losing none of its speed as he brought me to completion in short, jerking movements. I spent myself against him, and he let go of my arousal, let our bodies meet as he held me in the moonlight, before pulling out, his warmth drooling down onto the sheets between my legs. A needy kiss, as he curled against me, kissing over and over. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he spoke.  
“Thank you, Tam. For trusting me.”  
“Any time. Want to go again?”  
“If you’re…game, I guess so?”

I slung my arms around him and gently rolled over, pinning him to the bed, grinning down. To my delight, he grinned back, kissed hard, and, shifting a little, found me the jar of lube, pressing it into my hand and lying back on the sheets, cock jumping slowly back to attention as I lit another candle, and busied myself. He came undone quicker than I’d expected, and slightly louder than I liked, needily begging me to hurry up and take him.  
The second time was slower, sleepier, touching each other with care, feeling more like lovers than two random young men who had met but a few hours ago. We changed positions, began to experiment, even going as far as to gently tie Lyall’s hands back as I took him, face down, arse up, in the pillows, so that he couldn’t touch his twitching, dripping cock.  
  
The second orgasm crept  up, despite our slower pace and pauses, on both of us quicker than before, and without warning, and I felt him tighten just as I climaxed, his own orgasm pushing me further in mine, before I collapsed against him, head on his back, in a puddle of our own spent. I pulled out, eliciting a whine from Lyall, whose now unbound arms reached back for me.  
I lay there for a second, then crawled back, pulled the covers back, and half carried, half dragged the boy to the top of the bed, kissed his cheek, and hugged him against my chest.  
“Tam…” he managed to mumble, hands round my waist. A kiss, a half-hearted grope at my soft arousal, and within minutes, he was snoring soundly. I admired him, kissed his forehead, and a few moments later, sleep found me, and with it, dreams as filthy as the reality that had preceded it.

 


End file.
